Best 51 quotes in «lake quotes» category

A part of northern Italy called Val Camonica contains about 350,000 petroglyphs that were created nearly 10,000 years ago. Brescia is a famous town at 75 km from there, it is very popular for Beretta arms industry, the oldest in the world, the Garda Lake and also because Carl William Brown was born there.

A little tranquil lake is more significant to my life than any big city in the world

Every lake belongs to the quietness desired by the swans.

Captain Tervitt had been a real captain, for many years, on the lake boats. Now he had a job as a special constable. He stopped the cars to let the children cross the street in front of the school and kept them from sledding down the side street in winter. He blew his whistle and held up one big hand, which looked like a clown's hand, in a white glove. He was still tall and straight and broad-shouldered, though old and white-haired. Cars would do what he said, and the children, too.

Every morning before the birds start trilling me their stories, I give birth to a new love through my same old heart when a lake’s placidity finds life in the swans breath Only for you... From the poem 'Only For You

A VISIT TO QIANTANG LAKE IN SPRING Gushan Temple is to the north, Jiating pavilion west, The water's surface now is calm, the bottom of the clouds low. In several places, the first orioles are fighting in warm trees, By every house new swallows peck at spring mud. Disordered flowers have grown almost enough to confuse the eye, Bright grass is able now to hide the hooves of horses. I most love the east of the lake, I cannot come often enough Within the shade of green poplars on White Sand Embankment.

Be calm like a calm lake, then you will look beautiful like a beautiful calm lake!

Frog who wants to be a king of the lake by terrorizing other frogs is not a frog but a scorpion or a snake!

Find a calm lake and wait for the twilight in silence! There, existence will visit you with all its magnificence! The existence of the Existence can best be felt in the presence of dimness and in the absence of crowds and noises!

-Hay tres preguntas que toda mujer debe ser capaz de responder afirmativamente antes de comprometerse con un hombre. Si tu respuesta es no a alguna de las tres preguntas, corre como el infierno. -Es sólo una cita -me río-. Dudo que vayamos a hacer algún compromiso. -Sé que no lo harás, Lake. Hablo en serio. Si no puedes responder sí a estas tres preguntas, ni siquiera pierdas el tiempo una relación. Cuando abro mi boca, siento como que estoy reforzando el hecho de que soy su niña. No la interrumpo de nuevo. -¿Él te trata con respeto en todo momento? Esa es la primera pregunta. La segunda pregunta es, si es exactamente la misma persona dentro de veinte años que es hoy, ¿todavía querrías casarte con él? Y por último, ¿hace que quieras ser una mejor persona? Si encuentras a alguien que te haga responder afirmativamente a las tres, entonces has encontrado a un buen hombre.

Glass black swan On the mantelpiece Memory of the lake.

He pictured himself at the lake, on a houseboat. Dekka would be there, and Brianna and Jack. He would have friends. He wouldn’t be alone. But he couldn’t stop himself from looking for her. She no longer had Little Pete to worry about. They could be together without all of that. But of course he knew Astrid, and knew that right now, wherever she was, she was eaten up inside with guilt. “She’s not coming, is she?” Sam said to Dekka. But Dekka didn’t answer. She was somewhere else in her head. Sam saw her glance and look away as Brianna laid a light hand on Jack’s shoulder. Dahra was staying in the hospital, but a few more kids came. Groups of three or four at a time. The Siren and the kids she lived with came. John Terrafino came. Ellen. He waited. He would wait the full two hours. Not for her, he told himself, just to keep his word. Then Orc, with Howard. Sam groaned inwardly. “You gotta be kidding me,” Brianna said. “The deal was kids make a choice,” Sam said. “I think Howard just realized how dangerous life can be for a criminal living in a place where the ‘king’ can decide life or death.

Her shoes squished with the movement and, as she peered uncomprehendingly down at them, a tadpole emerged from the leg of her jeans and flopped about on the ground. "Eew!" She pointed a shaking finger at it. "A tadpole. I had a tadpole in my pants!" "Lucky tadpole," he murmured.

I drank some of that lake! I might have choked on a fish or a frog or a...a...a turtle!" "It is wisest to keep one's mouth shut while sifting." She skewered him with a frosty stare. "Now you tell me." Damn the fairy, anyway. There she stood, feeling ragtag and bedraggled, and he only looked more beautiful wet, all drippy and shimmery gold-velvet, his hair a wet tangle to his waist. "Come Gabrielle," he said, extending his hand, "we must keep moving. They can track me by what little magic I'm using to sift, but only to a general vicinity. We need to keep sifting, to spread out their search." "Is there anything else it's wisest to do that I should know about before we just pop off again?" She tucked her hands behind her back so he couldn't grab her and just sift rather than answering her. Besides, she needed a minute to brace herself for the next bout of traveling in a manner that defied all the known laws of physics. "You might try kissing me. Better my tongue than a frog, no?" Dark eyes sparking gold, he reached for her. "Close contest.

If I had to describe the scent of Michigan in spring and summer, it wouldn't be a particular smell – blooming wildflowers or boat exhaust off the lake – it would be a color: Green.

If Molly had not been so entirely loyal to her friend, she might have thought this constant brilliancy a little tiresome when brought into every-day life; it was not the sunshiny rest of a placid lake, it was rather the glitter of the pieces of a broken mirror, which confuses and bewilders.

Het mag eigenaardig heten, dat, volgens de overleveringen der oudste kolonies, dit stuk grond vroeger er bijna precies zo uitzag als het stadspark thans. Veertig of vijftig of misschien wel vijfenzeventig jaar geleden was die plek namelijk een open bosterrein met een werkelijk natuurmeer in het midden. Later werd het meer drooggelegd omdat men er koren wilde gaan verbouwen en de vissen, die er leefde - voornamelijk edele soorten als baarzen en snoekbaarzen - stierven in de door de zon verkorste modder. De plaats waar het meer geweest was bleef evenwel drassig en er vormde zich eigener beweging een poel, die met de jaren groter werd en dus eigenlijk niets anders was dan een poging van het meer om zich staande te houden. En het is dus wel nogal zonderling, dat er gebouwen gesloopt zijn moeten worden en er veel geld is moeten worden besteed alleen om het kleine bosterrein met het meer tot zijn vroegere bekoorlijkheid te reconstrueren. Zodat men geneigd zou zijn zich verwonderd af te vragen waarom men van het begin af aan de dingen maar liever niet gelaten heeft zoals ze nu eenmaal waren.

If you are a boat and your lake is frozen, what can you do? You will wait for the spring! We are lucky that we are humans, we don’t have to wait for the spring; we can break the ice if necessary, we can use fire to open our way! Nothing can stop the mind if the mind decides to move to his target!

If you can add a great beauty to something which is already beautiful, then you must be very beautiful like a white swan adding beauty to a misty lake!

I have left behind what tethered me to the lake. The sadness. The self-pity. The dark tentacles of the murky sea monster only I could see. And I have come to appreciate the ocean. How the sun and salt together can leave things weightless, easy, and smooth around the edges. Like sea glass and driftwood.

...I live with regrets - the bittersweet loss of innocence - the red track of the moon upon the lake - the inability to return and do it again...

Reflection is a good reminder of the truth! You may turn your eyes away from the truths, but the reflections will remind them to you! And anything which describes a truth well is a reflection of that truth! Turn your eyes away from the Moon, then the lake will remind the Moon to you, the shadows of the wolves howling against the Moon will remind the truth to you, even in the eyes of a frog, you shall see the Moon! Thus, if you turn your face away from the truth, it will never work! Because the reminders of truth are everywhere and they are as strong as the truth itself!

It’s time,” Jack said. “Breeze? Count the kids,” Sam said. Brianna was back in twenty seconds. “Eighty-two, boss.” “About a third,” Jack observed. “A third of what’s left.” “Wait. Make that eighty-eight,” Brianna said. “And a dog.” Lana, looking deeply irritated—a fairly usual expression for her—and Sanjit, looking happy—a fairly usual expression for him—and Sanjit’s siblings were trotting along to catch up. “I don’t know if we’re staying up there or not,” Lana said without preamble. “I want to check it out. And my room smells like crap.” Just before the time was up, Sam heard a stir. Kids were making a lane for someone, murmuring. His heart leaped. “Hey, Sam.” He swallowed the lump in his throat. “Diana?” “Not expecting me, huh?” She made a wry face. “Where’s blondie? I didn’t see her at the big pep rally.” “Are you coming with us?” Brianna demanded, obviously not happy about it. “Is Caine okay with this?” Sam asked Diana. “It’s your choice, but I need to know if he’s going to come after us to take you back.” “Caine has what he wants,” Diana said. “Maybe I should call Toto over,” Sam said. The truth teller was having a conversation with Spidey. “I could ask you whether you’re coming along to spy for Caine, and see what Toto has to say.” Diana sighed. “Sam, I have bigger problems than Caine. And so do you, I guess. Because the FAYZ is going to do something it’s never done before: grow by one.” “What’s that mean?” “You are going to be an uncle.” Sam stared blankly. Brianna said a very rude word. And even Dekka looked up. “You’re having a baby?” Dekka asked. “Let’s hope so,” Diana said bleakly. “Let’s hope that’s all it is.

It was one of those places where mist lingers well into the day and the dawn chorus starts early.

Looking out over the lake, I felt enveloped in the most peaceful, loving utopia.

I must confess, that my heart is like a frozen lake, only pretends to be firm, to shroud its tearful ache. So tread over this heart, as often as you like, but one of these days, if it feels your warmth strike; its cold, thin surface will abruptly break asunder, and then it won’t resist from pulling you deep under.

I was moved beyond words. The train ride over the mountains from lake Titticaca to Cusco reminded me of Africa where I grew up; and 4 days walking on the Inca Trail, then more in the jungle, just magnificent - time, space, and splendour. Our planet is superb!

No one touched the bottom of the lake and lived. If you were lucky, you'd surface wide-eyed and frantic, babbling at the darkness, the thickness of what lay below. If you were unlucky, underwater recovery dragged the lake for your body.

She felt a strong pull toward the water and it was more than curiosity…

She dreamed of driving off bridges: into a lake beneath some twisting highway of her youth, into the reservoir on the country road to home, into the San Francisco Bay.

Take the broken pieces of your life, bake a master cake out of it. Don't stand still like a lake; keep flowing like a stream!

The Congregating of Stars They often meet in mountain lakes, No matter how remote, no matter how deep Down and far they must stream to arrive, Navigating between the steep, vertical piles Of broken limestone and chert, through shattered Trees and dry bushes bent low by winter, Across ravines cut by roaring avalanches Of boulders and ripping ice. Silently, the stars have assembled On the surface of this lost lake tonight, Arranged themselves to match the patterns They maintain in the highest spheres Of the surrounding sky. And they continue on, passing through The smooth, black countenance of the lake, Through that mirror of themselves, down through The icy waters to touch the perfect bottom Stillness of the invisible life and death existing In the nether of those depths. Sky-bound- yet touching every needle In the torn and sturdy forest, every stone, Sharp, cracked along the ragged shore- the stars Appear the same as in ancient human ages On the currents of the old seas and the darkened Trails of desert dunes, Orion’s belt the same As it shone in Galileo’s eyes, Polaris certain above The sails of every mariner’s voyage. An echoing Light from the Magi’s star, that bacon, might even Be shining on this lake tonight, unrecognized. The stars are congregating, perhaps in celebration, passing through their own names and legends, through fogs, airs, and thunders, the vapors of winter frost and summer pollens. They are ancestors of transfiguration, intimate with all the eyes of the night. What can they know?

The words bounced off her like a stone skipping over the surface of a lake. A stone may skip a long way, but it always sinks eventually.

This is so funny,” said Ellen, noticing the seating arrangement. “Isn’t this funny? Tom, come sit next to Robin. Griffin, sit next to Laura.” I stood up and sat next to Robin while Griffin brought his chair over to Laura. “That’s better,” said Ellen. “Isn’t that better?

This was once Mazama, I kept reminding myself. This was once a mountain that stood nearly 12,000 feet tall and then had its heart removed. This was once a wasteland of lava and pumice and ash. This was once an empty bowl that took hundreds of years to fill. But hard as I tried, I couldn't see them in my mind's eye. Not the mountain or the wasteland or the empty bowl. They simply were not there anymore. There was only the stillness and the silence of that water: what a mountain and a wasteland and an empty bowl turned into after the healing process.

Vomit began to spill out of me like pea soup, splattering the road with champagne and caviar, long island iced teas, of bacon appetizers and croissants, and a perfectly grilled filet mignonette. It had gone down easy, among the kiss ups of the lawyer world, but spewed out nastily and hard, in the company of a cheater.

She had golden blazing sun kissed hair, which hung down in loose, lazy spirals, a heart shaped pouted mouth, which was pink tinged with violet blushing, wide, spangled blue eyes that glimmered sparks to flicker and ember in the vivid intelligence of the moon’s love, and a yielding body, that seem to tangle in loose rhythm as I walked near to her.

Sturdy swimmers afloat on water-couch Beneath the heavy bill their treasured pouch Fishes pray for them to fly far away Inland lakes toast to the Pelican’s day

THE FOUR HEAVENLY FOUNTAINS Laugh, I tell you And you will turn back The hands of time. Smile, I tell you And you will reflect The face of the divine. Sing, I tell you And all the angels will sing with you! Cry, I tell you And the reflections found in your pool of tears - Will remind you of the lessons of today and yesterday To guide you through the fears of tomorrow.

The language of a river inscribes over eyes of moths and flies the navel of the land is a lake.

The lake's deep...and dark...and dangerous.

The lake is lovely," I commented, "And so big. I still find it hard to believe it's artificial." "Oh, it's artificial, all right. Dive deep and you may bash your head on tree stumps.

The little lake you love is the biggest ocean for you!

The man I am writing about is not famous. It may be that he never will be. It may be that when his life at last comes to an end he will leave no more trace of his sojourn on earth than a stone thrown into a river leaves on the surface of the water.

There's only one way to tackle life, enjoy a day at the beach, and jump into a Great Lake: Headfirst!

What’s Albert going to do?” a boy named Jim demanded. “Where’s Albert?” Albert stepped from an inconspicuous position off to one side. He mounted the steps, moving carefully still, not entirely well even now. He carefully chose a position equidistant between Caine and Sam. “What should we do, Albert?” a voice asked plaintively. Albert didn’t look out at the crowd except for a quick glance up, like he was just making sure he was pointed in the right direction. He spoke in a quiet, reasonable monotone. Kids edged closer to hear. “I’m a businessman.” “True.” Toto. “My job is organizing kids to work, taking the things they harvest or catch, and redistributing them through a market.” “And getting the best stuff for yourself,” someone yelled to general laughter. “Yes,” Albert acknowledged. “I reward myself for the work I do.” This blunt admission left the crowd nonplussed. “Caine has promised that if I stay here he won’t interfere. But I don’t trust Caine.” “No, he doesn’t,” Toto agreed. “I do trust Sam. But . . .” And now you could hear a pin drop. “But . . . Sam is a weak leader.” He kept his eyes down. “Sam is the best fighter ever. He’s defended us many times. And he’s the best at figuring out how to survive. But Sam”— Albert now turned to him—“You are too humble. Too willing to step aside. When Astrid and the council sidelined you, you put up with it. I was part of that myself. But you let us push you aside and the council turned out to be useless.” Sam stood stock-still, stone-faced. “Let’s face it, you’re not really the reason things are better here, I am,” Albert said. “You’re way, way braver than me, Sam. And if it’s a battle, you rule. But you can’t organize or plan ahead and you won’t just put your foot down and make things happen.” Sam nodded slightly. It was hard to hear. But far harder was seeing the way the crowd was nodding, agreeing. It was the truth. The fact was he’d let the council run things, stepped aside, and then sat around feeling sorry for himself. He’d jumped at the chance to go off on an adventure and he hadn’t been here to save the town when they needed it. “So,” Albert concluded, “I’m keeping my things here, in Perdido Beach. But there will be free trading of stuff between Perdido Beach and the lake. And Lana has to be allowed to move freely.” Caine bristled at that. He didn’t like Albert laying down conditions. Albert wasn’t intimidated. “I feed these kids,” he said to Caine. “I do it my way.” Caine hesitated, then made a tight little bow of the head. “I want you to say it,” Albert said with a nod toward Toto. Sam saw panic in Caine’s eyes. If he lied now the jig would be up for him. Toto would call him out, Albert would support Sam, and the kids would follow Albert’s lead. Sam wondered if Caine was just starting to realize what Sam had known for some time: if anyone was king, it was neither Sam nor Caine, it was Albert.

When you have swam in the sea a lake will no longer do; everyone else has been a pond but the ocean was always you.

When the mind is silent like a lake the lotus blossoms.

When you sit tranquilly, you set a great example to the people who rush around in panic and thus you show the crazy waves the beauty of being a calm lake!

You can keep watch, in case – you know, the lake decides to attack us or something." - Leo Valdez